


Hear the Phoenix Cry

by The Amazing Bouncing Polecat (Rethira)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 09:34:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1221349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rethira/pseuds/The%20Amazing%20Bouncing%20Polecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The phoenix comes to him at the beginning of June.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hear the Phoenix Cry

**Author's Note:**

> repost of an old fic

The phoenix comes to him at the beginning of June. It sits outside his barred window and peers in. Gellert tosses it scraps of food sometimes – not often, because he needs that food and a phoenix quite obviously doesn’t. Still, it’s company. He talks to it and it sings sometimes, a delicate, mournful sound that makes Gellert ache a bit. His eyes get a bit misty sometimes when the phoenix sings, but Gellert doesn’t cry. He wonders why it’s there at all and tries to shoo it away, because his guards might be mildly friendly but phoenixes are rare birds and if they know he’s befriended one somehow then they’ll probably want to pluck it and sell all its feathers.

Not that the phoenix would let them. Clever birds, phoenixes, and besides, their feathers aren’t worth much when given up unwillingly. Gellert decides that this particular one must be lonely or something and has come for some company, and some clever company at that.

“You remind me of Albus,” Gellert says to it one day. It stares at him for a while and starts crying, thick clear tears sliding over its feathers and dropping to the ground far below. It starts to sing after a while, a soft, sad song and Gellert reaches out between the bars to gently stroke its head crest, wondering what has upset the bird so.

A few days later, one of the guards tells him that Albus is dead.

“Fawkes,” Gellert rasps, lying on his bed. The phoenix – _Albus’_ phoenix – trills at him through the bars and then it’s inside with him and flying over to perch by his bed. “That is you isn’t it? Haven’t seen you since you were a chick, how many years ago? Didn’t recognise you, silly bird. Bet you wondered why I never invited you in,” Gellert mumbles, absently stroking Fawkes’ feathers.

The door creaks and Fawkes leaves and Gellert ignores the guards, wondering why no-one bothered to tell him that Albus was dead until now. He eventually gets up and eats the meagre gruel they’ve given him and flips open the weeks old copy of _The Daily Prophet_ they’ve left for him. All of it simply goes on about Albus – died protecting the school, Voldemort’s followers, something about that Potter boy – and Gellert reads it but he doesn’t take it in.

“He’s dead, Fawkes,” Gellert tells the bird after the shock has passed. Fawkes coos and bows his head, before nudging Gellert’s hand gently. “Left you to me, did he?” Gellert asks. “No, he set you free and you came here, didn’t you? Daft bird,” Gellert says, but it is fond and almost gentle.

Slowly, more newspapers filter into Nurmengard and Gellert learns more about it, including the fact that Albus’ wand was entombed with him.

“The Elder Wand,” he begins, “buried with Albus. Fitting, I suppose. Doubtless the idiot who killed him didn’t even know; and when he dies – he will die, Fawkes, if I have to do it myself – the wand will just be a wand again. No more Hallow. Hah,” Gellert shakes his head and coughs slightly. Fawkes simply trills gently and begins to sing again.

If the guards notice Fawkes, they don’t say anything. Probably for the best, Gellert decides. After all, people would talk if they knew that Gellert Grindelwald was consorting with a phoenix. And well, someone would recognise Fawkes. The bird was _known_ and if it got out that Gellert was playing host to _Albus Dumbledore’s_ phoenix... well, Gellert didn’t particularly want to tell them why. Not that he knew why Fawkes had come to him. Whim, perhaps. Wanting to mourn with someone who knew Albus. Gellert could have found out, if he really wanted to, but his mind wasn’t quite up to it and besides, he didn’t want to scare the phoenix away.

“Entombed on Hogwarts’ ground, eh? And how does he expect me to visit, that’s what I want to know. Not like I can up and Apparate over there. And don’t even get me started on that entombing thing. I’ll be lucky if they even bury me in the first place. Probably just burn me, Fawkes. You can do it for me even. Will you do it, Fawkes? Come back and burn me,” Gellert says one day, dropping the old newspaper onto the table. Fawkes flutters over to him and perches awkwardly on the table. He trills lightly and Gellert knows that Fawkes will come back if he can. “Good bird,” Gellert mutters and gently strokes Fawkes’ head crest.

Gellert starts writing. He’s going to die soon and he isn’t bitter enough to deny the magical world his knowledge. He’s had a lot of time to think after all, even if he’s been unable to test most of his theories. Albus tested a few of them, he remembers and they were largely correct. But Gellert hasn’t written them down – he’d always said ‘Later, I’ll write it later’ – but now there isn’t a later. Now there is only tomorrow, if he is lucky. So Gellert writes down everything he knows; the thirteenth and fourteenth uses of dragon blood, how to tell if a Lethifold is in the area before it devours someone, several new charms, an untested theory on the likelihood of squibs in wizarding families and wizards in muggle families and an entire paper on why the Patronus Charm can and does change shape. There was so much he had to write down, but those, he felt were the most important.

It is as he is writing the paper on the Patronus Charm, that Fawkes begins to behave strangely. The bird flies over and keeps on nodding at the paper, nudging Gellert’s hand and being generally annoying. Eventually, he perches on Gellert’s head and won’t come down. Gellert sighs and glares as much as he can at Fawkes, before setting his quill down and slowly getting up.

“You want me to cast it, don’t you? Daft old bird. I haven’t used magic in years, let alone that particular charm,” Gellert says, before closing his eyes and focusing on a happy memory. _Albus_ , he thinks, _in the summer of 1899; when we were young and free._ Gellert remembers Albus, blue eyes twinkling and laughing, and Gellert remembers that it was probably that moment that he fell in love with him.

“ _Expecto Patronum,”_ he says, softly. He feels the magic come, star bright and strong, and stumbles back, Fawkes jumping off his head and perching on the bed. Gellert opens his eyes slowly, expecting to see his Patronus – a Hungarian Horntail, something for which Albus had never let him forget – crouching in the centre of the room. Instead, a silver-white phoenix has perched on his chair and is staring at him knowingly. Gellert stares at it for a few seconds and then he starts to laugh. Both Fawkes and the Patronus watch him carefully, heads cocked in apparent confusion, but Gellert knows better.

“You knew Fawkes,” he wheezes, “you knew that my damned Patronus had changed.” He coughs slightly and then he decides that while he has the thing there, he might as well do something. “You, Patronus. Take this to Albus’ grave.” he says, slipping his pendant off and passing it to the silver-white phoenix. It doesn’t make a sound as it flies away, slipping easily through the bars on the window. Fawkes watches it go with him, and Gellert laughs to himself again. He turns back to his paper and carefully writes the final words.  
 _  
Lastly of course, the Patronus changes for love. This particular change is well known amongst certain circles, however I have decided to include it here anyway. As some of you doubtlessly know, my Patronus was found to be a Hungarian Horntail, the most vicious dragon left alive. I would like to tell you that it has changed since then._

 _My Patronus now resembles the phoenix. Make of that what you will._  
  
Gellert laughs again and lays his quill down. He shoos Fawkes away as the guards come to bring him his gruel and hopes that his pendant makes it to Hogwarts safely.

 

A lone centaur sees a shimmering bird fly across the night sky. He watches as it circles the tomb where Dumbledore rests. Eventually, it settles by the base and then it disappears. He canters out of the forest and pauses by the tomb. No trace of the bird remains, but a pendant has been left. The centaur picks it up and raises an eyebrow at it. Even centaurs recognise Grindelwald’s symbol and he wonders why his signature pendant has been left here of all places.

The centaur debates about removing it for a while, but doesn’t – whoever sent it obviously went to a lot of trouble to do so. Instead, he shifts the tomb’s lid just a bit and drops the pendant inside. That way at least, no-one will steal it. He closes the tomb up again and trots back home. No-one else even notices.

 

Later, Gellert meets Voldemort. He sends Fawkes away before the new Dark Lord can reach him and he apologises to the phoenix that he’s going to leave as well. Fawkes simply nudges his hand gently again and lets him stroke his head crest before the phoenix leaves; for good this time.

Gellert is not impressed by the new Dark Lord. He doesn’t tell him anything either, because Albus deserves to have a good rest now and breaking open his tomb is bound to make even him angry.

It doesn’t do any good and soon Gellert dies.

He wakes up in Godric’s Hollow. Ariana is poking him with a stick and laughing lightly.

“Albus?” he asks. She shakes her head.

“Still busy, busy. Never stops working, that man,” she replies.

“Well, he’ll be along soon enough,” Gellert says, mostly to himself. Ariana laughs again, bell-like and clear.

“Oh yes, but don’t think he’ll stop working then. We’ll have to work together, Gel. Make sure he rests a bit,” she says. Gellert smiles at her.

“It’s good to see you, Ariana. And I’m sorry,” he says.

“I forgave you a long time ago, Gel. Now come on, let’s see if we can find some sherbet for Albus.”

And now, at last, all is well.


End file.
